


promises, promises

by covellite



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Hippies, M/M, References to Sex, Sexual Tension, it's a bit naughty fair warning, set during area77, this is basically crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:02:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28520577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/covellite/pseuds/covellite
Summary: Grian didn't think much about Impulse. And then he saw him shirtless.
Relationships: Grian/ImpulseSV
Comments: 6
Kudos: 82





	promises, promises

Grian had been told that Impulse was a friendly guy, not nearly as intimidating as he sometimes looked, and very, very passionate about his builds. He was a big name in the redstone world, apparently, but so was practically every other guy in Hermitcraft. He had no penchant for fire or lightning, couldn't alter the very fabric of reality itself, didn't create buildings that seemed to reach above the build limit.. the impression Grian got was that Impulse was normal. Boring, even. And nothing he saw for most of season six changed that.

He and Impulse didn't interact much. They'd greet one another in the shopping district or at meetings, and although he was pleasant, Grian never felt the urge to spend more time with him. He wasn't like Mumbo, who Grian had known for years, nor was he like Doc, whose commanding form could be seen across the battlefield, nearly distracting Grian enough to make him walk into a landmine. Even during the Civil War, Impulse had stuck to his cannons, and the threats he spoke were always said with a smile fighting to break free. He was just a normal guy, and Grian appreciated his existence, but thought nothing more of it.

Then Impulse asked to join the hippies.

He wasn't the kind of guy Grian had expected to volunteer, but he pushed those thoughts aside and inducted Impulse into his and Ren's little camp. Ren seemed not at all surprised by Impulse's presence.

"Oh, Impulse? Yeah, he's an _interesting_ guy once you get past the redstone and all that. You should have seen what I caught him and Zed doin' once, my dude. It was _wild_."

Ren's waggling eyebrows piqued Grian's curiosity, and he promised himself to get to know Impulse better in the coming weeks. Luckily, Impulse had decided to stay with the camp instead of coming and going for his redstone duties. This meant he greeted Grian in the mornings with a deep, raspy voice that sent a shiver down his spine; it meant Impulse handed Grian things he needed for his flower farms without Grian even needing to ask, Impulse so familiar with machinery that he could understand it at a glance; it meant Grian leaned on Impulse's shoulder in the evening as they watched Ren try to show off his cooking skills, and he felt the muscles of Impulse's arm shift every time he moved or laughed. Those muscles made Grian think things that would make Mumbo blush so hard his mustache fell off.

_Gods_ , he wanted Impulse to fuck him.

It didn't help matters that Impulse had a habit of staying up until he physically couldn't stay awake any longer, meaning that Grian had to drag him into bed half the time. Impulse always let him do so with a fond smile that hid just a bit of mischief, as though he knew why Grian's hands sometimes lingered on his arms and chest, or why Grian's eyes followed him from across the camp. Which, yeah, probably everyone could figure out why Grian did those things, but the important thing was that Impulse didn't seem to mind. In fact, if anything, he _encouraged_ it. He smirked up at Grian every time Grian made him lie down in bed as though he were silently asking Grian to join him. He stretched his arms and back in Grian's presence more often than Grian thought entirely necessary, not that Grian minded, and always let out an unbearably tantalizing sound as he did so. Some redstone stained Impulse's shirt once, and instead of shrugging it off as Grian himself would have, Impulse pulled his shirt off, the whole world moving in slow motion as he did so, then gave Grian a brilliant smile.

"Better get this cleaned before the stain becomes permanent," Impulse said, probably. Grian wasn't paying the most attention to his words at that point. There was so much _skin_ to look at, skin he'd never been so lucky as to lay eyes on before. The muscles of Impulse's arms and chest, which already had a permanent home in Grian's mind, were even more prominent when not covered by the thin shirt. He wasn't _ripped_ , per se, but he could definitely snap Grian in half if he wanted to. And oh gods, did he want him to.

Impulse didn't bother putting a new shirt on that day, which also meant Grian didn't get any more work done on his RV that day. Instead he stared unabashedly at Impulse while he worked on his redstone, watching how smooth and confident his every motion was. It was a vastly different experience from watching Mumbo do redstone, in part because Mumbo was almost never shirtless, but also because Mumbo constantly rambled and second-guessed himself about every other block. Impulse could be self-conscious, Grian knew, but when it came to redstone he was in his element.

Dinner was a strange and half-burnt affair. Ren had been just as distracted as Grian while making dinner for the three, and it showed in his cooking. Impulse must have noticed the staring, as he fiddled awkwardly with whatever was nearby whenever he caught one of them in the act. Ren offered him a spare shirt when it got darker, but Impulse refused, fiddling with a lever in a way that sent Grian's imagination spiraling down a path he probably shouldn't consider while in polite(ish) company.

Ren, despite supposedly being a werewolf, was never able to stay awake for long after sundown, so he went to bed shortly after dinner was over, leaving Grian and Impulse alone by the smoldering fire. Conversation came easily, though Grian's eyes kept focusing on either Impulse's chest or on the repeater he held in his hands. Impulse was slowly dragging the slider up and down with his thumbs, and it was a completely innocent image, but it turned Grian's face red anyways.

There was only so much of shirtless Impulse that Grian could look at without spontaneously combusting and/or trying to suck his dick, so he decided to call it a night earlier than usual. Like every night, he poked at Impulse's shoulder until Impulse agreed to go to bed, then walked with Impulse to his RV and made sure Impulse was properly lying down in bed before leaving. Only, Impulse in bed with clothes on was one thing. Impulse in bed shirtless was something completely different, something Grian's brain refused to function with. The moment Impulse lay down, all thoughts disappeared, replaced with the burning image of Impulse, shirtless and smirking up from the bed up at Grian as he spoke.

"You okay there, G? You look a little frazzled," Impulse said.

_"Yes, I'm fine. Have a good night."_

Grian had intended to say something along that line, but what instead came out of his mouth was a squeak followed by a quiet "Fuck."

"Grian?" Impulse raised an eyebrow, still looking amused.

Grian blinked, then shook his head. Then he blinked again extra hard. "Yeah," he said. "Sorry. I just…"

Impulse waited patiently while Grian looked for the right words.

"You're shirtless."

"Yeah," Impulse agreed. "I am."

"And in bed."

"Yup."

"Fuck."

Impulse laughed at this, thankfully not a mean laugh, but still enough to make Grian blush even harder. "If you want, sure."

Grian wasn't sure his brain had ever started working properly after Impulse took his shirt off, but it definitely broke entirely now. "Really?" he asked.

"I don't walk around shirtless for no reason, G," Impulse said as he sat up and took Grian's hand, patting it gently. "And I can put myself to bed just fine, but why would I do that when I could have you tuck me in every night?"

Grian's brain, however much of it was still functioning, finally caught up to the situation. "Oh!" he said. "Hold on. Are you saying I could've been getting laid for the past month instead of jerking off to- nevermind."

"No, no, I'm very interested in this. What does the great G-man jerk off to?"

"I'll jerk _you_ off," Grian said under his breath. It was supposed to be an immature mockery, but it didn't really work as one. It did, however, make Impulse's breath hitch, which was nice to hear.

"Promise?"

Grian looked at Impulse, still shirtless and still in bed, holding his hand and looking up at him with a look on his face that suggested a _fun_ night ahead if Grian said the word.

"Promise."


End file.
